Today was largely freeform; we were to go in our groups to visit museums and archives. Group one, that is my group 1st went to the national portrait gallery and then to the national theatre archives.
The portrait gallery was 1st and although we agreed to meet up at 11 I went early to get acquainted with the space. I had a leisurely walk through London and quite enjoyed the change of pace. Arriving at 10.30 I went to top most floor of tutor art and stayed there until 11. At eleven I came down to meet the group, it was another cold morning so I had dressed warmly but the others hadn’t predicted this and was somewhat cooler. We waited for the rest of the group and then made our own way inside to the gallery. I decided that I would rather go by myself rather than with the others so made my way back to the Tudor art.
I enjoyed the top floor immensely it contains many fine paintings and stories, enough to keep me entertained for days. But my time was short so I found a painting of Robespierre and as it fitted neatly with what we had already done spent the rest of the time looking at the French revolution. This led on the war of the roses and then to the American Revolution. Naturally I veered off to look at Sloane and Darwin but came back for wellington and Washington, my course was erratic and so I learnt much. I ended on slavery before I had to call it a day but I was resolved I would return.
Outside the gallery I met up with Ioanna Robyn and Theodore, we waited longer for the others before checking up on them and discovering that they had already moved on. We then made for the nationals archive, near the old vic. We went to waterloo and made our way from there*. We made it to the archive and I did a quick head count. As we were two members short I gave them a quick call and directions, we all met up at the right time and were shown in.
We were spoken to by a very well informed archivist who we completely failed in our collective ignorance. I wanted to speak up on numerous occasions but decided against it simply because it would have revealed me. So the poor man stumbled on and showed us to the archive itself. A controlled environment to maximise the lifespan of the paper documents contained within.
That’s about it, we went home. Some went to clubs and others read.
No more.
Theodore is an annoying person; He just irks me in the wrong way. His tone is condescending because he thinks he knows more than me, how I long to prove him wrong. But he is useful, he speaks when no one else does and has views so simple that the others share them.
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Thursday, 14 October 2010
Wednesday, 13 October 2010
Traces
TracesI decided to walk to the peacock theatre with my colleges from central that live in my building, the walk was direct and free; it was also dark and scary. It was on this walk that I came up with the best piece of advice I have for Londoners. Hesitation/indecision kills. Either cross the road or don’t, but don’t change speeds, if you are going to run, run, if not, don’t. It’s amazing what adrenaline will do for a body.
Right so the performance, outside it I had the pleasure of talking to Caroline Townsend. She was waiting for our American guests with her predecessor to her post. I had a short chat with them while we waited and then entered the theatre. I had the fortune of sitting with Neliswa and could talk to her before the production began. Now for another SM review.
I didn’t know it at the time, as I had made sure not too, but I was about to see a piece of circus. I like circus its fun fresh and can be very originally unoriginal. To say about the set, well it had two large poles in the centre grounded with ¼ inch cable capable of supporting a lot of weight, also technology on the ground was space and widely spaced allowing movements of a grant style. Wing space was quite large and the set append to be or a reclaimed style. The piano in particular looked particularly butchered. Projected onto the rear wall that was draped with assorted filth and cargo netting, was a live feed from the auditorium camera that we passed on our way into the auditorium; as a device to keep the audience entertained it was very cost effective.
The production began with an ominous voice over sarcastically telling us to not leave out phone on and the like. It was darkly funny quite like British humour I thought. The show had very little in the way of plot, but it didn’t need it, just a sort of guiding force between tricks, and that’s what happened. I rather liked the attitude to failure in circus; if you fail you try again until it’s done correctly. You recover and don’t let anyone know that it wasn’t part of the trick, this happened a couple of times but the recoveries were smooth and transparent, allowing uninterrupted action. The audience went along with it was well, whooping and cheering at ever little thing and even the larger ones.
You can say this for them, they know their psychology and timing it was very theatrical overall.
Right so the performance, outside it I had the pleasure of talking to Caroline Townsend. She was waiting for our American guests with her predecessor to her post. I had a short chat with them while we waited and then entered the theatre. I had the fortune of sitting with Neliswa and could talk to her before the production began. Now for another SM review.
I didn’t know it at the time, as I had made sure not too, but I was about to see a piece of circus. I like circus its fun fresh and can be very originally unoriginal. To say about the set, well it had two large poles in the centre grounded with ¼ inch cable capable of supporting a lot of weight, also technology on the ground was space and widely spaced allowing movements of a grant style. Wing space was quite large and the set append to be or a reclaimed style. The piano in particular looked particularly butchered. Projected onto the rear wall that was draped with assorted filth and cargo netting, was a live feed from the auditorium camera that we passed on our way into the auditorium; as a device to keep the audience entertained it was very cost effective.
The production began with an ominous voice over sarcastically telling us to not leave out phone on and the like. It was darkly funny quite like British humour I thought. The show had very little in the way of plot, but it didn’t need it, just a sort of guiding force between tricks, and that’s what happened. I rather liked the attitude to failure in circus; if you fail you try again until it’s done correctly. You recover and don’t let anyone know that it wasn’t part of the trick, this happened a couple of times but the recoveries were smooth and transparent, allowing uninterrupted action. The audience went along with it was well, whooping and cheering at ever little thing and even the larger ones.
You can say this for them, they know their psychology and timing it was very theatrical overall.
Mid week
Today was the second of the weeks performances this in mind I decided that the black suit would be appropriate for the evening, it was also far too cold for my liking so I took the matching waistcoat.
I like waistcoats; they are warm and smart and go with everything.
As part of group one my first session was a power point briefing, I have used PowerPoint many times before and I am proficient in it. Indeed I know tricks within the program for specific effects and I remember fondly a show I did using rear projecting.
The slide in question was an effect slide that was needed for a scene in the last moments of the show. It was a late addition and I was told about it shortly after that nights show had begun. Sitting in my castle (I made a raised platform backstage to operate the AV, It was grey and styled like a castle) I wrote the slide while operating the prepared AV simultaneously. The effect was that of typing, how it worked was every individual letter of the final subtitle were individually made to fade in on a key stroke done manually by me. It was finished at the very last moment and when it was done, the audience cheered for the effect and the director was so happy she cried; but I digress.
The second part of the day was a lecture on writing skills.
This was a treat, I know firsthand how creative types hate to write, some hate justifying themselves and others hate to be quantified. They like to think that inspiration comes to them in surges; anything else makes them common and mundane. Unfortunately this is an academic course; although I use the word quite wrongly, we still have to write a PEF.
This PEF is a short reflective report about our work and processes, as it turns out we don’t get marked solely on the end product but rather the process behind it. I agree with this as it is about learning after all not just the end product, the show is the aim but not the goal. I was expecting something filled with argument and I was right, but what surprised me was the masterful in turning the negatives he received and I was so proud of his style that during break I had to congratulate him.
Critical thinking comes naturally to me, in fact I think like that naturally, or rather I over think things and it annoys people as I tend to go into the deeper meaning than they themselves had thought. So I have learnt to stay silent, nothing alienates you more than intelligence. This particular lesson took a lot of experience to learn, so now I channel in inwards and focus on more ineffable things to distract myself from the burning ignorance of my colleges.
I also thanked Nick who likes noodles because he is, in his own words, a swan*.
After the break we talked more about the problems of the group, mainly that they didn’t/couldn’t/wouldn’t write. This I found particularly humorous as they couldn’t offer a more concrete reason other than they didn’t want to. They alleged that as creative people they aren’t able to write....... and then they stop talking. At the last moments of the day I stood over them and saw on the faces a mixture of emotions, as well as a couple of people I will have to look out for and even some that I will need to be wary of. So a profitable day all round I suppose.
*A colourful metaphor, calm on the surface legs paddling franticly underneath. I decided not to point out the fact that he was churning water rather frantically as I was the only one to notice, and it would have knocked his confidence.
I like waistcoats; they are warm and smart and go with everything.
As part of group one my first session was a power point briefing, I have used PowerPoint many times before and I am proficient in it. Indeed I know tricks within the program for specific effects and I remember fondly a show I did using rear projecting.
The slide in question was an effect slide that was needed for a scene in the last moments of the show. It was a late addition and I was told about it shortly after that nights show had begun. Sitting in my castle (I made a raised platform backstage to operate the AV, It was grey and styled like a castle) I wrote the slide while operating the prepared AV simultaneously. The effect was that of typing, how it worked was every individual letter of the final subtitle were individually made to fade in on a key stroke done manually by me. It was finished at the very last moment and when it was done, the audience cheered for the effect and the director was so happy she cried; but I digress.
The second part of the day was a lecture on writing skills.
This was a treat, I know firsthand how creative types hate to write, some hate justifying themselves and others hate to be quantified. They like to think that inspiration comes to them in surges; anything else makes them common and mundane. Unfortunately this is an academic course; although I use the word quite wrongly, we still have to write a PEF.
This PEF is a short reflective report about our work and processes, as it turns out we don’t get marked solely on the end product but rather the process behind it. I agree with this as it is about learning after all not just the end product, the show is the aim but not the goal. I was expecting something filled with argument and I was right, but what surprised me was the masterful in turning the negatives he received and I was so proud of his style that during break I had to congratulate him.
Critical thinking comes naturally to me, in fact I think like that naturally, or rather I over think things and it annoys people as I tend to go into the deeper meaning than they themselves had thought. So I have learnt to stay silent, nothing alienates you more than intelligence. This particular lesson took a lot of experience to learn, so now I channel in inwards and focus on more ineffable things to distract myself from the burning ignorance of my colleges.
I also thanked Nick who likes noodles because he is, in his own words, a swan*.
After the break we talked more about the problems of the group, mainly that they didn’t/couldn’t/wouldn’t write. This I found particularly humorous as they couldn’t offer a more concrete reason other than they didn’t want to. They alleged that as creative people they aren’t able to write....... and then they stop talking. At the last moments of the day I stood over them and saw on the faces a mixture of emotions, as well as a couple of people I will have to look out for and even some that I will need to be wary of. So a profitable day all round I suppose.
*A colourful metaphor, calm on the surface legs paddling franticly underneath. I decided not to point out the fact that he was churning water rather frantically as I was the only one to notice, and it would have knocked his confidence.
Tuesday, 12 October 2010
Danton's Life
The production of Danton's death was for me rather interesting. The best way to respond to a production however is not to list it but to review it, so here is my review from a stage management perspective and a more personal view.
Let’s start with the set, as far as I could tell it was painted in the true to form theatre style of staining, where you allow the colour to flow and interact with the lighting to create states that agree with the director’s view. The colours looked a sort of diseased wooden so greens blues and browns. I remember thinking that that was my paint standard as I had painted similar pieces; in fact the bench was identical to one I made last year. The back wall has half a hexagon with three sides at approximately 35 degree angles to each other and painted similarly. They had doors set into them for access and removable back walls to assist with set changes. They used a rather neat trick with the set changes in fact, by blinding us with fire.
Burning torches were carried out during the more expansive scene changes to destroy the night vision of those who would spy on backstage via an open door. The second tier of the set had massive shuttered windows that had lanterns behind to mimic natural light. These worked very well, and could be shut to create further states.
The acting was at a good standard I think, the problem as I see it is the ages of the actors, in my brief knowledge of the French revolution, Danton should be an older slightly jaded character who wants his death to mean something for the cause for which he devoted his life. He doesn’t want to die in the debauchery that awaits all revolutionaries. I do however very much like the casting of Maximilien Robespierre as he is the perfect dictator, shot powder white and he wears the character like an old coat, it fits perfectly and without chafing.
As far as cueing it seems a simple piece that could be done by a semi professional, the relatively small scene changes and props require knowledge of the show but not a deep involvement in that scene at least. The rehearsals must have been enjoyable and I hope that they were at least for the actors’ scene. The other actors were not perhaps to the same calibre but I shan't judge, I’ve seen worse.
A lot worse in fact.
What impressed me more was the reaction of my year group to the production; as far as I could tell the majority were bored ridged up until the final moments. At which point there was the noise of an entire audience sitting forward to see the trick and a couple of hundred trying to solve it. I was not part of that number, I have the greatest respect for magic and science and I enjoy it too much to ruin it with perception and speculation. This is the trick that I alleged too in my earlier entry.
After the production we sort of dispersed, I gathered some opinions from different members of the group, some were sure of themselves and could confidently say that they liked of disliked it and others went along with them, some liked it because they were supposed to and others had no opinion at all, and were, like myself, asking the questions. However the conclusion was that the lighting and sound guys didn’t like it, the technical production lot did and everyone else was open minded but noted that if they knew more about the revolution they would have liked it more. I disagree with that this piece was supposed to educate you can’t say to the teacher that would have paid attention if it were something you already knew.
Danton's life 3### Danton's Death 5#####
Let’s start with the set, as far as I could tell it was painted in the true to form theatre style of staining, where you allow the colour to flow and interact with the lighting to create states that agree with the director’s view. The colours looked a sort of diseased wooden so greens blues and browns. I remember thinking that that was my paint standard as I had painted similar pieces; in fact the bench was identical to one I made last year. The back wall has half a hexagon with three sides at approximately 35 degree angles to each other and painted similarly. They had doors set into them for access and removable back walls to assist with set changes. They used a rather neat trick with the set changes in fact, by blinding us with fire.
Burning torches were carried out during the more expansive scene changes to destroy the night vision of those who would spy on backstage via an open door. The second tier of the set had massive shuttered windows that had lanterns behind to mimic natural light. These worked very well, and could be shut to create further states.
The acting was at a good standard I think, the problem as I see it is the ages of the actors, in my brief knowledge of the French revolution, Danton should be an older slightly jaded character who wants his death to mean something for the cause for which he devoted his life. He doesn’t want to die in the debauchery that awaits all revolutionaries. I do however very much like the casting of Maximilien Robespierre as he is the perfect dictator, shot powder white and he wears the character like an old coat, it fits perfectly and without chafing.
As far as cueing it seems a simple piece that could be done by a semi professional, the relatively small scene changes and props require knowledge of the show but not a deep involvement in that scene at least. The rehearsals must have been enjoyable and I hope that they were at least for the actors’ scene. The other actors were not perhaps to the same calibre but I shan't judge, I’ve seen worse.
A lot worse in fact.
What impressed me more was the reaction of my year group to the production; as far as I could tell the majority were bored ridged up until the final moments. At which point there was the noise of an entire audience sitting forward to see the trick and a couple of hundred trying to solve it. I was not part of that number, I have the greatest respect for magic and science and I enjoy it too much to ruin it with perception and speculation. This is the trick that I alleged too in my earlier entry.
After the production we sort of dispersed, I gathered some opinions from different members of the group, some were sure of themselves and could confidently say that they liked of disliked it and others went along with them, some liked it because they were supposed to and others had no opinion at all, and were, like myself, asking the questions. However the conclusion was that the lighting and sound guys didn’t like it, the technical production lot did and everyone else was open minded but noted that if they knew more about the revolution they would have liked it more. I disagree with that this piece was supposed to educate you can’t say to the teacher that would have paid attention if it were something you already knew.
Danton's life 3### Danton's Death 5#####
Danton's Death
Today we were told about the importance of a journal, and while I agreed the atmosphere was less that pleased. We drew pictures and talked about them. These were very useful as they confirmed my suspicions about the base motivation behind a lot of people’s actions; that they wanted to make money and be famous. A well known survey of our times as shown that 75% of younger people want to be famous, nothing on the how or the why just that they want to be. And rich they also want lots of money. A perfectly natural reaction you may say and perhaps I agree.
Still it was an interesting day; we went to the S.T peters church where we have further spaces for learning. On the walk up I met a Girl called Shahida, a fellow stage manager. When I mention people I have met I mean that I met them specifically rather than as part of my rounds.
I have met plenty of my year group and they all know my name.
Once in S.T peters we had a cursory education of the French revolution and a look at other theatre practitioners. We went into our groups; I am in the easily remembering group one. Towards the end of the lecture Nick the lighting tutor proposed a competition. Whoever could tell him how then final trick was achieved would get a prize.
After the lecture myself and Shahida went to waterloo station and had some dinner, we left for the national on time but rather than going straight in we decided to round up stragglers and guide them all in together. This cost us further time, so we were about ten minutes late. I did not mid however I have notes being taken for me and I had already done a similar Q and A session the year before and learnt all I wanted to know. Not to say that it wouldn’t have been useful to be there but I wasn’t disappointed. I was however upset that I have already let down my tutor. I made to apologise to the lighting tutor but he was in a state of disarray. He had lost Neliswa and her friend Nelly (wheelchair bound) and was trying to sort out tickets for them. I had Neliswa’s number and so called to her to reply. Sensing an opportunity to prove myself I located Neliswa and so her friend at the lower level giving them instruction to be at the second floors ticket office, I then worked to find nick. The national theatre is an archetype of sixties design with many confusing stairways and shallow carpeted steps just too tall to comfortable take two at a time. After finding nick and guiding him to Neliswa a followed suit because in case I could be of further assistance. In the end I was called on to investigate a ticket, I did so and returned to my seat in time to watch the performance.
I will include my notes on the performance under a different heading.
After the performance I lagged behind to investigate the stage and staff and made my way out. I checked on Neliswa and Nelly and her escort; I then made for home. Just outside the national I encountered a group of both lighting and sound students waiting for nick to emerge and tell him about the trick, hoping to win the prize he alleged to earlier. I counted about fifteen of them the girls having sensibly left I decided not to tell them that nick didn’t watch the performance, bade them a good night and left with a smirk on my face.
Still it was an interesting day; we went to the S.T peters church where we have further spaces for learning. On the walk up I met a Girl called Shahida, a fellow stage manager. When I mention people I have met I mean that I met them specifically rather than as part of my rounds.
I have met plenty of my year group and they all know my name.
Once in S.T peters we had a cursory education of the French revolution and a look at other theatre practitioners. We went into our groups; I am in the easily remembering group one. Towards the end of the lecture Nick the lighting tutor proposed a competition. Whoever could tell him how then final trick was achieved would get a prize.
After the lecture myself and Shahida went to waterloo station and had some dinner, we left for the national on time but rather than going straight in we decided to round up stragglers and guide them all in together. This cost us further time, so we were about ten minutes late. I did not mid however I have notes being taken for me and I had already done a similar Q and A session the year before and learnt all I wanted to know. Not to say that it wouldn’t have been useful to be there but I wasn’t disappointed. I was however upset that I have already let down my tutor. I made to apologise to the lighting tutor but he was in a state of disarray. He had lost Neliswa and her friend Nelly (wheelchair bound) and was trying to sort out tickets for them. I had Neliswa’s number and so called to her to reply. Sensing an opportunity to prove myself I located Neliswa and so her friend at the lower level giving them instruction to be at the second floors ticket office, I then worked to find nick. The national theatre is an archetype of sixties design with many confusing stairways and shallow carpeted steps just too tall to comfortable take two at a time. After finding nick and guiding him to Neliswa a followed suit because in case I could be of further assistance. In the end I was called on to investigate a ticket, I did so and returned to my seat in time to watch the performance.
I will include my notes on the performance under a different heading.
After the performance I lagged behind to investigate the stage and staff and made my way out. I checked on Neliswa and Nelly and her escort; I then made for home. Just outside the national I encountered a group of both lighting and sound students waiting for nick to emerge and tell him about the trick, hoping to win the prize he alleged to earlier. I counted about fifteen of them the girls having sensibly left I decided not to tell them that nick didn’t watch the performance, bade them a good night and left with a smirk on my face.
Monday, 11 October 2010
HWK
As follows is the 100 words that I have written as homework, beneath them is a more comprehensive look at what I am trying to say.
.....................................................................................
My hopes for central are quite small really, I hope that I make plenty of friends Thant I can call upon as contacts and in turn they can rely on me. I want to help others progress and become profitable in their chosen careers and generally succeed. I also want to develop my interpersonal skills and gain new perspectives that will help me in life. I fear that I will not do my very best and work to the height of my ability and won’t get the recognition that I feel I deserve and not make any friends.
.....................................................................................That is word for word what I wrote. I being of the assumption that I was only allowed to write 100 words did so. What I was trying to say is that I want to be liked; one of the most important things for a stage manager is to be liked. Not in a silly and child like way but to be respected and generally approved off and that I will be able to have a conversation with anyone because they don’t have any specific animosity towards me. I hope that the people I meet here become successful because I am investing a lot of time into them, so that when they mature I can use their unique skills and abilities to my advantage and in turn I will help them be the best they can be for themselves.
This may seem like a Machiavellian thing to do, and it is. But I do it because in the long term it helps both parties and so it can be judged as moral, for the given value of the word.
As for the interpersonal skills that is a topic for another time and I am sure I will revisit it on the weekend as I have divided thus.
Saturday is a time for personal critical thinking and Sunday is a time for clarification of terms and motivations.
Ok so thats the homework.
.....................................................................................
My hopes for central are quite small really, I hope that I make plenty of friends Thant I can call upon as contacts and in turn they can rely on me. I want to help others progress and become profitable in their chosen careers and generally succeed. I also want to develop my interpersonal skills and gain new perspectives that will help me in life. I fear that I will not do my very best and work to the height of my ability and won’t get the recognition that I feel I deserve and not make any friends.
.....................................................................................That is word for word what I wrote. I being of the assumption that I was only allowed to write 100 words did so. What I was trying to say is that I want to be liked; one of the most important things for a stage manager is to be liked. Not in a silly and child like way but to be respected and generally approved off and that I will be able to have a conversation with anyone because they don’t have any specific animosity towards me. I hope that the people I meet here become successful because I am investing a lot of time into them, so that when they mature I can use their unique skills and abilities to my advantage and in turn I will help them be the best they can be for themselves.
This may seem like a Machiavellian thing to do, and it is. But I do it because in the long term it helps both parties and so it can be judged as moral, for the given value of the word.
As for the interpersonal skills that is a topic for another time and I am sure I will revisit it on the weekend as I have divided thus.
Saturday is a time for personal critical thinking and Sunday is a time for clarification of terms and motivations.
Ok so thats the homework.
Monday the first
Well today is the first real day of term
I am reminded of the Friday before, it was the fresher’s fair a sort of event where people gather and talk about trivial things like personal fun amidst loud music and lingering smells.
On the whole I decided to give it a miss. I instead went exploring around the site looking for hidden rooms and special shortcuts, I found a fair few and further cemented my knowledge of the area. As was to be expected there were relatively few people around but I had the fortune to stumble in upon a few scenes of interest. One of interest that I will repeat here is the event or events that occurred in the design workshop; a large multiple tiered structure with a long tightly spiralling staircase down one length. From the top of the perch I learnt the structure of Monday’s ice breaker and the chains of event for that day.
So prepared I introduced myself and gave the standard back-story to those who I could count not to remember fully. Introducing clarity moments I insinuated myself into the subconscious and as a result I can rely upon support of a greater calibre than my colleagues.
But on to Monday the first
we sat in the largest theatre in the seating rig and by we I mean all three years of my colleagues all the BATP in fact. I was afforded the luxury of sitting in the front row with the largest leg room and next to me a girl who introduced herself to us on the registration day as Neliswa. She has a rare adult onset condition that causes fainting spells and as such she was afforded the same rights as myself as a similarly disabled person.
The introduction was long and tedious for me; the only practical information was that a 2nd year student going into the third year of sound was killed by London traffic. There was a shared moment of applause and then back to the monotony. We then had a session where we made rain noises with our bodies. This was the focal point of the morning for a lot of people as it was interactive in the very personal sense of the word. Each member of the audience was responsible for a part of the production not matter how small.
I will be very surprised if they don’t write about it in their PEF at the end of the unit.
After that we had a short break, I had lunch with Neliswa and due to a misunderstanding were late back to the principals address. We didn’t miss much as he was rehashing what was already told to us earlier. I will include an extract at a later point for reference.
After the principal we were spoken to by the SU or student union. It’s important to note that the head of the union graduated last year as a costume designer and is the only paid member of the union body. He has an office geographically next to the principals but in reality it is nothing like his office.
After their introduction and a token heckling by the audience they left for their lessons and then we ourselves left for a strand introduction. The introduction consisted of a meeting of the managers and a short guided tour via a buddy system of a second year and a 3rd year escort, in my case however we were short a 3rd year so myself and the other male manager teamed up and shared a 3rd year. The tour was basic and informal as a result broke down halfway through into a question and answer session.
The other male manager is called George cook. He has friends here as a result already has an in with the higher years, whether or not this is helpful remains to be seen. I myself have contacts above my year a 2nd year technical production student and a 3rd year scenic constructer.
But more on them later.
The last stop was the SM office a decently large space that had the energy of previous shows within. It also had a rather grumpy 3rd year stage manager. Instantly seeing a chance for information I lagged behind the group as they went to the SU bar for drinks. This was a simple decision as had I have gone I would have had to have divulged personal information of another’s terms; simply unacceptable.
After rebranding the grumpy man I gained much useful information about the structure of central and I sent him on his way with a smile. I went to the bar as a token of goodwill made sure I was noticed by my tutor and left without incident.
I am reminded of the Friday before, it was the fresher’s fair a sort of event where people gather and talk about trivial things like personal fun amidst loud music and lingering smells.
On the whole I decided to give it a miss. I instead went exploring around the site looking for hidden rooms and special shortcuts, I found a fair few and further cemented my knowledge of the area. As was to be expected there were relatively few people around but I had the fortune to stumble in upon a few scenes of interest. One of interest that I will repeat here is the event or events that occurred in the design workshop; a large multiple tiered structure with a long tightly spiralling staircase down one length. From the top of the perch I learnt the structure of Monday’s ice breaker and the chains of event for that day.
So prepared I introduced myself and gave the standard back-story to those who I could count not to remember fully. Introducing clarity moments I insinuated myself into the subconscious and as a result I can rely upon support of a greater calibre than my colleagues.
But on to Monday the first
we sat in the largest theatre in the seating rig and by we I mean all three years of my colleagues all the BATP in fact. I was afforded the luxury of sitting in the front row with the largest leg room and next to me a girl who introduced herself to us on the registration day as Neliswa. She has a rare adult onset condition that causes fainting spells and as such she was afforded the same rights as myself as a similarly disabled person.
The introduction was long and tedious for me; the only practical information was that a 2nd year student going into the third year of sound was killed by London traffic. There was a shared moment of applause and then back to the monotony. We then had a session where we made rain noises with our bodies. This was the focal point of the morning for a lot of people as it was interactive in the very personal sense of the word. Each member of the audience was responsible for a part of the production not matter how small.
I will be very surprised if they don’t write about it in their PEF at the end of the unit.
After that we had a short break, I had lunch with Neliswa and due to a misunderstanding were late back to the principals address. We didn’t miss much as he was rehashing what was already told to us earlier. I will include an extract at a later point for reference.
After the principal we were spoken to by the SU or student union. It’s important to note that the head of the union graduated last year as a costume designer and is the only paid member of the union body. He has an office geographically next to the principals but in reality it is nothing like his office.
After their introduction and a token heckling by the audience they left for their lessons and then we ourselves left for a strand introduction. The introduction consisted of a meeting of the managers and a short guided tour via a buddy system of a second year and a 3rd year escort, in my case however we were short a 3rd year so myself and the other male manager teamed up and shared a 3rd year. The tour was basic and informal as a result broke down halfway through into a question and answer session.
The other male manager is called George cook. He has friends here as a result already has an in with the higher years, whether or not this is helpful remains to be seen. I myself have contacts above my year a 2nd year technical production student and a 3rd year scenic constructer.
But more on them later.
The last stop was the SM office a decently large space that had the energy of previous shows within. It also had a rather grumpy 3rd year stage manager. Instantly seeing a chance for information I lagged behind the group as they went to the SU bar for drinks. This was a simple decision as had I have gone I would have had to have divulged personal information of another’s terms; simply unacceptable.
After rebranding the grumpy man I gained much useful information about the structure of central and I sent him on his way with a smile. I went to the bar as a token of goodwill made sure I was noticed by my tutor and left without incident.
Sunday, 10 October 2010
The journal
OK so I have decided that I will re purpose my Blog as my journal for coursework, this may prove to be impractical so I shall make temporary posts in word and upload then onto here. At time of writing it is in fact the 16Th of October and as a result I have not written in the blog for over two weeks.
As we learn that I will need to keep one on the 12Th and as our homework on the 11Th is to write one for the next day I shall be doing keep ups for the week in one day.
I do this because I have been informed that i will need to bring in the journal for Monday.
Ah homework.
Ah well to business.
As we learn that I will need to keep one on the 12Th and as our homework on the 11Th is to write one for the next day I shall be doing keep ups for the week in one day.
I do this because I have been informed that i will need to bring in the journal for Monday.
Ah homework.
Ah well to business.
Sunday, 3 October 2010
Halls
So today I decided that i would sleep in, i hadnt slept well the night before and so it was a treat. i knew that i would be moveing into halls and was unsure about what to expect. after what was a short and inpromptu conferance with my cousens and a total stranger they all left for sunday mass leaveing me alone with my thoughts. i spend the time reading a webcomic that i had recently discoverd, i like these becase it simplfys the process of buying a book and the chore of reading it. this comic was very good a sort of alternative reality world where thier are similaritys and vast differances to our world. the writeing style is quite good to.
After a while they returned from church and we had a sunday lunch, a quite enjoyable one to tell the truth as it had a large amount of humor around the table, the main focus was my uncles lemon pie. it haddnet set proberly and was very sharp, the other desert was similarly malformed. they were both quite nice but i enjoyed the pained looks on the faces of my family as they ate.
After the lunch i packed for halls, said my goodbyes and we left in a car to the centre of london, the jouiney was tense as my grandma was driveing and she is reckless, but in the london trafic i suppose you have to be.
After a life affirming drive to bloomsbury i got my things into international hall relatively smoothly, the room itself was larger than i had anticipated but still quite bare and surjical. this time around i had packed relatively light so after emptying my rucksack i was unpackect except for clothes. the cloths i had unceromoniously dumped on the floor to air.
After saying my goodbyes to my father and grandmother i settled in, got the internet working and changed into something smarter. i then took a small tour of the halls and found a secrate passage to the basement and to the roof. There was a quiz in the bar that i could have done but i decided against it as i was to tired to try today.
I went to bed uncofortably.
After a while they returned from church and we had a sunday lunch, a quite enjoyable one to tell the truth as it had a large amount of humor around the table, the main focus was my uncles lemon pie. it haddnet set proberly and was very sharp, the other desert was similarly malformed. they were both quite nice but i enjoyed the pained looks on the faces of my family as they ate.
After the lunch i packed for halls, said my goodbyes and we left in a car to the centre of london, the jouiney was tense as my grandma was driveing and she is reckless, but in the london trafic i suppose you have to be.
After a life affirming drive to bloomsbury i got my things into international hall relatively smoothly, the room itself was larger than i had anticipated but still quite bare and surjical. this time around i had packed relatively light so after emptying my rucksack i was unpackect except for clothes. the cloths i had unceromoniously dumped on the floor to air.
After saying my goodbyes to my father and grandmother i settled in, got the internet working and changed into something smarter. i then took a small tour of the halls and found a secrate passage to the basement and to the roof. There was a quiz in the bar that i could have done but i decided against it as i was to tired to try today.
I went to bed uncofortably.
Saturday, 2 October 2010
The Rain
My first day in London started well, i was woken at seven AM by my father. I should explain that i had managed to get to bed at around three AM that morning so i was a little sleepy. Last night i had frantically packed the very last of my things away and found a set of clothes that i could wear that wernt packed for London. These were clean but were next to some dirty washing so i put them in a black bin back and fumigated them with deodorant. so when i woke up in the morning i had some clean cloths to wear.
When i arrived in London it was a nice sunny day, i took the tube from the station and then the bus to my grandmas house. after meeting up with my grandma i spent some time with my cousin Aaron playing computer games. after a while my father was restless and so we went to Westfield.
The musical Sweeney Todd features a song about London, its sung in to parts; one by an optimist and the other by the realist.
The verse of the song that kept going in my head compared London to a great black pit filled with people who are filled with excrement.
Westfield was so packed that their were queues into most shops and all the restaurants, there were so many little children around and push buggies that when i passed a to let parents were changing nappies in the corridor.
on the way out it was raining and after a couple of hours it was raining even more.
we got on a bus for the last leg of the journey and after a couple of stops it broke down, it was a very busy bus but when it broke down i managed to get a seat.
When i got back to my grandmas i started face book up again and discovered a long lost friend.
This guy was my first true friend and as a result i have a lot of sentimentality towards him, on the other hand he was a bad child and so i fell out with him in the second half of my secondary school.
He was under a differnt name and i had added him a long time ago, but i never quite made the conection untill tonight. untill he spoke to me.
He simply asked what primary school i went to and introduced himself. he is a DJ, fancy that as close to theater lighting as you can be without being in theater. but i digress it was a nice diversion.
When i arrived in London it was a nice sunny day, i took the tube from the station and then the bus to my grandmas house. after meeting up with my grandma i spent some time with my cousin Aaron playing computer games. after a while my father was restless and so we went to Westfield.
The musical Sweeney Todd features a song about London, its sung in to parts; one by an optimist and the other by the realist.
The verse of the song that kept going in my head compared London to a great black pit filled with people who are filled with excrement.
Westfield was so packed that their were queues into most shops and all the restaurants, there were so many little children around and push buggies that when i passed a to let parents were changing nappies in the corridor.
on the way out it was raining and after a couple of hours it was raining even more.
we got on a bus for the last leg of the journey and after a couple of stops it broke down, it was a very busy bus but when it broke down i managed to get a seat.
When i got back to my grandmas i started face book up again and discovered a long lost friend.
This guy was my first true friend and as a result i have a lot of sentimentality towards him, on the other hand he was a bad child and so i fell out with him in the second half of my secondary school.
He was under a differnt name and i had added him a long time ago, but i never quite made the conection untill tonight. untill he spoke to me.
He simply asked what primary school i went to and introduced himself. he is a DJ, fancy that as close to theater lighting as you can be without being in theater. but i digress it was a nice diversion.
Friday, 1 October 2010
Midnight
About four hours ago I decided that I would restart this blog as I think that as the next chapter symbolically opens up for me in life I should record it for my mind.
I am convinced that I shall suffer mental decay of some sort in the coming years and so i am keen to utilise my mind to its fullest while it is fully in command.
This will be helped by the arrival of the dragon voice software that I have been waiting for.
To clarify I am writing this at midnight on the 1st of October 2010, two or one as it now is, days before i move into halls of residence to study at London within the CSSD.
I expect that I shall write a catalog of events in my blog over the next few says to explain my situation and perhaps the problems and events of the last few months and mayhap the last years.
I am convinced that I shall suffer mental decay of some sort in the coming years and so i am keen to utilise my mind to its fullest while it is fully in command.
This will be helped by the arrival of the dragon voice software that I have been waiting for.
To clarify I am writing this at midnight on the 1st of October 2010, two or one as it now is, days before i move into halls of residence to study at London within the CSSD.
I expect that I shall write a catalog of events in my blog over the next few says to explain my situation and perhaps the problems and events of the last few months and mayhap the last years.
Tuesday, 15 June 2010
Monday, 14 June 2010
Pull, Twist and Bend.
Today was a day of trepidation for me, a day where hesitation has results. I walked the two miles into my college this morning, normaly a pleasant enough walk with music and my cane but today I had neither so it wasn’t the best experience. I arrived before anyone else so everything was locked. This time I had planed ahead, and with a mighty pull I opened the doors to our room. Today’s plan was to pull the formerly motorised seating rig out, I like the physical exertion of the task.
Today was the day I had planned to tell my hated tutor that I was leaving, for bigger and better things. When it came to telling her, it took a while to bulk up the courage to talk to her. Walking into the shared course leader office I asked to talk to her privately and so she suggests a walk and talk. She started by explaining how this process normaly unfolds, we get to a certain point on the route and then the reason for the conversation is revealed. After the big reveal we walked in circles for a while talking about the course and the problems with it. We had a very adult conversation about it, about the nature of the course, the professional industry.
I rather liked that conversation, rather than make her suffer and sour her towards me forever; tainting my professional career we left on good terms. So I hope in the future should our paths cross again she will look on me with kind eyes. Now that I come to reflect on her I rather like her, it’s a pity we weren’t peers because if we were I have a feeling that we would be friends.
Later in the day I became aware of a bird that had broken its legs and was flapping uselessly along the floor. I asked for advice from my good friend who happened to be there at the time and who grew up in the country, and he said to me that the only thing to do is euthanasia. so I ask him the most humane way of doing it, to which he replies not unkindly that it’s like a rabbit; pull, twist and bend.
After a brief struggle I catch the bird in a deep plastic tub and take it somewhere dignified.
I had never killed before and so I was unsure of what to do. This wasn’t helped by my companion a horrible person who wanted to stamp it to death with his shoe. Well I couldn’t let that happen. The second companion I acquired wanted to know what to do in a similar situation, so after explaining the process to him I sent him on his way as well.
By this time the bird lay still and calm, I grasped it firmly and put it out of its misery.
I threw the bird in a high arc over into the deep bushes, one final flight.
Today was the day I had planned to tell my hated tutor that I was leaving, for bigger and better things. When it came to telling her, it took a while to bulk up the courage to talk to her. Walking into the shared course leader office I asked to talk to her privately and so she suggests a walk and talk. She started by explaining how this process normaly unfolds, we get to a certain point on the route and then the reason for the conversation is revealed. After the big reveal we walked in circles for a while talking about the course and the problems with it. We had a very adult conversation about it, about the nature of the course, the professional industry.
I rather liked that conversation, rather than make her suffer and sour her towards me forever; tainting my professional career we left on good terms. So I hope in the future should our paths cross again she will look on me with kind eyes. Now that I come to reflect on her I rather like her, it’s a pity we weren’t peers because if we were I have a feeling that we would be friends.
Later in the day I became aware of a bird that had broken its legs and was flapping uselessly along the floor. I asked for advice from my good friend who happened to be there at the time and who grew up in the country, and he said to me that the only thing to do is euthanasia. so I ask him the most humane way of doing it, to which he replies not unkindly that it’s like a rabbit; pull, twist and bend.
After a brief struggle I catch the bird in a deep plastic tub and take it somewhere dignified.
I had never killed before and so I was unsure of what to do. This wasn’t helped by my companion a horrible person who wanted to stamp it to death with his shoe. Well I couldn’t let that happen. The second companion I acquired wanted to know what to do in a similar situation, so after explaining the process to him I sent him on his way as well.
By this time the bird lay still and calm, I grasped it firmly and put it out of its misery.
I threw the bird in a high arc over into the deep bushes, one final flight.
Sunday, 13 June 2010
An example
For my first post I have decided an example would be appropriate. So this is what happened on Friday the 11Th of June 2010.
I am currently living in Worthing finishing my first year of a two year degree course studying stage management.
I don't like this course.
In fact I would go so far as to say I hate it. I dislike the building, I dislike the budgets, but I Hate my tutor; and the feeling is mutual.
We don't get along for the very simple reason, I know her games and I'm better at them than she is.
But I digress.
On this particular Friday I awoke in my comfortable bed to hear the sound of a torrential downpour, normaly this is an omen that the day will be bad.
Normaly this prediction isn’t that unlikely as the rain normaly plays havoc with my joints and causes me too much pain to do much more than give orders and oversee progress.
I had arranged the previous day for a lift into Uni, partly because I wanted the company but mostly so that if I am late I can blame someone else. This lift worked out well as the rain would have made the walk rather uncomfortable. Not to say that I wouldn’t have walked in the downpour, I have, it’s just not the nicest experience in the world. The lift was nice, I found a good place to wait under a tree to keep try, and stable enough to rest my pack on. During the ride I had a good conversation with Andy.
Andy is my friend; he is in the second year and is professional and competent. I like Andy because although he is agreeable on the surface he has real feelings and drives that are powerful enough to compel him to better things.
On the drive we talked about these things and more specifically how important it is to be good at what you do, and no matter of training will improve you if you don’t have natural talent.
When we arrive at college we found that the doors to our classroom are locked and as no one is in access is impossible. Not a problem for us, as we are in the theatre witch in unlocked and so we can get things ready for the next set of shows.
After getting ready I hear my tutor so I disappear. Disappearing is easy if you know how, dressed in my theatre blacks I predict her movements and shadow her, the structure of the theatre makes this easy as all I have to do is stay above her on the fly-floors or gantries or behind the flats and curtains. While I am following her I overhear her conversation to Andy.
To paraphrase, Andy is unhappy that he is not getting the best possible grade, he alleges that his work is up to par and the reasons that he is not getting the best grade is due to the incompetence of his peers and the people who signed off on his work experience. Her reply was a short no. She then massaged his ego and justified her position by saying, and again I am paraphrasing. Grades aren’t everything and he is good enough to excel without them. She then turned the blame onto him saying that it was his fault that his peers didn’t generate the paperwork he needed because he didn’t hound them for it. Then she left. Well I wasn’t having that so I swooped down and coached Andy to what she really said, so he wasn’t taken in.
After that I spent some time reading a book on my fly floor.
Then I went to our classroom, saw that our tutor was there, kept on walking to the room next to it and talked to a costume designer about her Dr Who costume with a sonic screwdriver. So I borrow the screwdriver and walk back into my classroom. Almost immediately I am hounded by two guys Josh a fellow first year and Kelvin a second year. They explain to me that the internet is down and that the I.T department are unhappy with us.
To clarify they are unhappy with me, because I found a way to print from our laptops bypassing the credit system that charges us exorbitant rates for printing. The only reason I perused the wireless printing is that the computers kept breaking so we couldn’t print the college’s way.
Anyway I investigated the problem and found that I.T’s bold move was to unplug the routers in the adjacent room (see fig one) preventing us from getting a wireless signal in our room, however they couldn’t unplug the router in the tutors room because they use it, so wireless connection is still available in the adjacent room. I sat down in this room to read my emails when suddenly I hear loud shouts of my
name.
Leaping out of the door frame to general amazement the nature of the problem quickly becomes apparent; a small bird has hit our window and is lying twitching on the ground. I quickly call for a box to get the creature off the floor, when what seems as everyone else that heard comes running eager to give their advice about what to do, some think that it’s a baby bird others think I have killed it. I tell that I do know exactly what I am doing and that I have done it many times before. A box is acquired and as I prepare to gently pick up the bird with a rag so not as to touch it, jack swoops down chastising us for being babies, pick up the bird by the foot lifting it roughly to the box and dropping it. Angrily I explain that it was not dead and as he is suitably upset I leave the matter at that. Putting the bird in a warm dark place it heals and I realise it back into the world.
All this happens before one o’clock
I am currently living in Worthing finishing my first year of a two year degree course studying stage management.
I don't like this course.
In fact I would go so far as to say I hate it. I dislike the building, I dislike the budgets, but I Hate my tutor; and the feeling is mutual.
We don't get along for the very simple reason, I know her games and I'm better at them than she is.
But I digress.
On this particular Friday I awoke in my comfortable bed to hear the sound of a torrential downpour, normaly this is an omen that the day will be bad.
Normaly this prediction isn’t that unlikely as the rain normaly plays havoc with my joints and causes me too much pain to do much more than give orders and oversee progress.
I had arranged the previous day for a lift into Uni, partly because I wanted the company but mostly so that if I am late I can blame someone else. This lift worked out well as the rain would have made the walk rather uncomfortable. Not to say that I wouldn’t have walked in the downpour, I have, it’s just not the nicest experience in the world. The lift was nice, I found a good place to wait under a tree to keep try, and stable enough to rest my pack on. During the ride I had a good conversation with Andy.
Andy is my friend; he is in the second year and is professional and competent. I like Andy because although he is agreeable on the surface he has real feelings and drives that are powerful enough to compel him to better things.
On the drive we talked about these things and more specifically how important it is to be good at what you do, and no matter of training will improve you if you don’t have natural talent.
When we arrive at college we found that the doors to our classroom are locked and as no one is in access is impossible. Not a problem for us, as we are in the theatre witch in unlocked and so we can get things ready for the next set of shows.
After getting ready I hear my tutor so I disappear. Disappearing is easy if you know how, dressed in my theatre blacks I predict her movements and shadow her, the structure of the theatre makes this easy as all I have to do is stay above her on the fly-floors or gantries or behind the flats and curtains. While I am following her I overhear her conversation to Andy.
To paraphrase, Andy is unhappy that he is not getting the best possible grade, he alleges that his work is up to par and the reasons that he is not getting the best grade is due to the incompetence of his peers and the people who signed off on his work experience. Her reply was a short no. She then massaged his ego and justified her position by saying, and again I am paraphrasing. Grades aren’t everything and he is good enough to excel without them. She then turned the blame onto him saying that it was his fault that his peers didn’t generate the paperwork he needed because he didn’t hound them for it. Then she left. Well I wasn’t having that so I swooped down and coached Andy to what she really said, so he wasn’t taken in.
After that I spent some time reading a book on my fly floor.
Then I went to our classroom, saw that our tutor was there, kept on walking to the room next to it and talked to a costume designer about her Dr Who costume with a sonic screwdriver. So I borrow the screwdriver and walk back into my classroom. Almost immediately I am hounded by two guys Josh a fellow first year and Kelvin a second year. They explain to me that the internet is down and that the I.T department are unhappy with us.
To clarify they are unhappy with me, because I found a way to print from our laptops bypassing the credit system that charges us exorbitant rates for printing. The only reason I perused the wireless printing is that the computers kept breaking so we couldn’t print the college’s way.
Anyway I investigated the problem and found that I.T’s bold move was to unplug the routers in the adjacent room (see fig one) preventing us from getting a wireless signal in our room, however they couldn’t unplug the router in the tutors room because they use it, so wireless connection is still available in the adjacent room. I sat down in this room to read my emails when suddenly I hear loud shouts of my
name.
Leaping out of the door frame to general amazement the nature of the problem quickly becomes apparent; a small bird has hit our window and is lying twitching on the ground. I quickly call for a box to get the creature off the floor, when what seems as everyone else that heard comes running eager to give their advice about what to do, some think that it’s a baby bird others think I have killed it. I tell that I do know exactly what I am doing and that I have done it many times before. A box is acquired and as I prepare to gently pick up the bird with a rag so not as to touch it, jack swoops down chastising us for being babies, pick up the bird by the foot lifting it roughly to the box and dropping it. Angrily I explain that it was not dead and as he is suitably upset I leave the matter at that. Putting the bird in a warm dark place it heals and I realise it back into the world.
All this happens before one o’clock
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